Re: london readoption

Postby synastry » Mon Jul 23, 2018 9:53 pm

ahh she’s so gorgeous, marking this!
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Re: london readoption

Postby c o r r i o n a. » Tue Jul 24, 2018 8:57 am

    username :: w h i t e. b o y
    kal's name :: Dianthus.
    hobby :: Behold a magical garden like youve never seen before that Dianthus' hobbies begin at.! Unlike any regular garden, flower's bloom into beautiful sculptures of all kinds specifically containing mythological beings and a few animals of sorts, decorateing her little piece of happiness & shareing it with whoever else finds her garden as whimsical as she does. From pastel pink snapdragon dolphin's flowing across an ocean of fountain delphinium's, to 12 foot friendly fire breathing dragons hiding our in the woods made of red dragon rose's with a group of pegasus made out of black dragon rose's taking flight nearby in a field of tulips. There's so much more, you'd just have to come see for yourself the swwat curdling beauty her artwork holds, the detail of how every flower is placed so well to put it all together.
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Re: london readoption

Postby Jippy » Wed Jul 25, 2018 9:57 am

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♢✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧♢
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Username;; Dreamlight || Kalon Name;; Daphne Echo || Gender;; Female
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Deep down, a raging battle is stirring within everyone. A fight that’s just begun, one that will continue on for the rest of our lives. Daphne is no exception, fighting along with everyone else, she’s unique, both blessed and cursed. In fact, many people dare claim she’s an angel on the face of Earth. Her beauty, kindness, and compassion shines from her like a light to heaven, but what’s an angel without a voice?
✧✦✧
They would compliment her and all she could return was a smile, a simple gesture. She felt that she was muted from the world, like part of her was missing. Her disability tore her apart, all the colors seemed to be drained from her life, it was a hole that she could never patch up. No matter how hard she tried to keep calm and together, the frustration destroyed her. The fact that she’d open her mouth and nothing would come out. No screams of angry and sadness, no cries of helplessness, nothing but silence. But the silence, taught her a thing or two that she’d never imagine. Over the years, she became an excellent listener which in terms was equally important as talking. After all, what’s the point of talking when no one can listen. Even without a voice, she could communicate in her own way. She hung to that hope and discovered her solution which once more brought color to her world. A hobby of her own.
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It all started on a lovely picnic, everyone there was talking and laughing, it was a perfect day, but Daphne could only sit in silence and be ignored. She fidgeted with the grass, gazing at the scenery around her. She soon noticed that she had woven together the strands of grass into a beautiful intricate design. She quickly wondered if she could do the same with her hair. She started pulling out three sections, overlapping each other in a simpl pattern, until her long wavy hair was pulled in a stunning braid. This was only the start. She began playing around with the idea and discovering new ways, it was all exciting and new for her. Braiding hair not only put her at ease but allowed her to express herself.
✧✦✧
To her braiding was a style of art that was not only rewarding but fun! She has started off small, braiding a part of her hair, learning new ways and experimenting. She improved tremendously but still held that same passion for when she first started. She loved nothing more then the challenge and the endless possibilities. It brought a light to her world that she never knew existed. She would even occasionally do other’s hair. The way their face lit up was all the payment she needed. Her client would chat with her about whatever they had in mind while she messed with their hairdo, after all Daphne was a patient and excellent listener! Although her hobby brought back colors to her world, it never erased the fact that she couldn’t speak, but instead she learned to cope with it and to appreciate all that she learned from it. For her battle was not over yet.
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♢✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧♢

https://giphy.com/gifs/black-and-white- ... XNquNp3MCQ
Last edited by Jippy on Sat Aug 11, 2018 7:16 am, edited 11 times in total.
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Re: london readoption

Postby veridian » Thu Jul 26, 2018 2:15 am

    mark,,,, choc i hope you're alright,,,
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Re: london readoption

Postby Namida_☾ » Fri Jul 27, 2018 8:52 pm

Name: Dianne
Gender: Female
Personality: Dianne is very kindhearted and caring. She loves every animal. She hates arguments and tries to help others that argue. If you ask for help she will stop whatever she is doing to come and help you. If you are sad or sick she will bring you flowers and cares for you to cheer you up. She loves gifting people. Most of her gifts are little flowers. If you need someone to take care of your pet she will do it. She stands for her opinions and nothing will ever break her mind.
Hobby: She loves the stars and gardening and animals.

At daytime she works in her garden. She loves to plant new flowers and to care for her flowers. There isn’t a day she doesn’t work in her garden. Her favorite flowers are roses. She loves the smell of all her flowers in her garden and to hear the birds sing and watch the bees that fly from flower to flower. In autumn she also love ago make little leaf piles for the hedgehogs.

At nighttime she loves to lay on the grass in her garden and look at the stars. All the stars and constellations are fascinating her. If it’s cloudy she enjoys to watch some fireflies.

She also sometimes helps out by an animal shelter. She loves to look in their joyful faces when she comes to play with them and to cuddle with them. She also loves to see it when an animal finds a new loving home.

(When she was little it was her dream to fly with a rocket to the stars and plant flowers on the moon and on the other stars so the creatures that live on those stars have something beautiful to look at.)
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Last edited by Namida_☾ on Mon Aug 13, 2018 7:59 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: london readoption

Postby trans » Sat Jul 28, 2018 4:13 am

      res maybe
they/he, adult, pms are okay!
just here for pets, oekaki, and
closed species, occasionally. ♡
xxx''my kalon storage
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Re: london readoption

Postby Armuris » Thu Aug 02, 2018 5:24 am

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    { username } Armuris { name } Kenna { gender } female { orientation } straight { hobby }


┌───────────────────────────────┐












    Everyone needs a hobby, right? But when people come to meet her,
    nobody expects what they inevitably end up finding in Kenna’s house.
    From the front everything seems perfectly normal. A nice little brick house
    enclosed with a white picket fence. However, once you walk around to
    the back, you would find a metal shed and where there should be grass
    and a beautiful yard, all of it is soot. Ash lines the ground all the
    way from the door of the shed into the house. To find a full amazement,
    all you must do is walk into the shed. The shed is filled with anvils
    and fire pits, hammers and buckets of water.

    Kenna stands there hunched over one of the anvils as you walk up.
    Completely oblivious, she flips her braid back out of the way as she
    leans back to smack down a hammer without catching her beautiful
    black hair on fire. “Um, hello?” She jumps, almost throwing the
    hammer backwards and squints up at you.

    “Oh hey, I didn’t realize you were here already!” She sets down
    the hammer and uses tongs to douse off the red hot metal in the
    water bucket. “Sorry about that, but you know me and my forging,”
    she giggled trailing off, setting her current project back down. For
    not many people realize that this sweet little girl enjoyed making
    her own knives.













└───────────────────────────────┘
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Re: london readoption

Postby Olive; » Fri Aug 10, 2018 4:21 pm

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Username: OliveMyLove
Name: Diana
Gender: Cis Female














College. It was closer than ever now; two weeks away. I sifted through my belongings, each item I owned telling a story. I don’t need to bring my old stuffed animals, I don’t need to bring any of my SAT study books. As I continued to sift through my drawers, I found a nondescript book. Huh, that’s odd. I don’t remember that at all! I flipped open the front cover. "Diana’s Diary," it stated in a second grader’s wobbly letters.
A tiny memory popped to the surface of my mind. June, third grade. The day we all chose our instruments. I excitedly flipped through the pages, trying to find the entry from that day. I stopped on a page littered with tiny music notes and treble clefs. Yep. This was it.

    Dear Diary,

    Today, we learned about all the instruments that we could play in band! First, Mr. Holland told us about the common instruments, and played a video of each for us.

    Flute - Though I do love the beautiful sound of the flute, I can’t possibly bring myself to play it. There’s too much incessant giggling going on in there.
    Clarinet - Clarinet has a really nice sound to it, as well! But I’m not sure it’s the right instrument for me.
    Saxophone - No. Just... no.
    Trumpet - The sound is too bright and piercing! I would rather play something darker.
    Trombone - While every instrument has the opportunity to play something pretty, I don’t think trombone gets very many of these opportunities.

    Then, he told us about the other instruments. These were only for people who were willing to devote a lot of time to practicing. I perked up. I loved taking piano lessons, so maybe one of these would be my perfect fit!
    The first instrument he mentioned was the oboe. It's a double reed instrument, meaning that two reeds were placed against each other, and they vibrated to make a sound. As one of the most difficult instruments to learn, he told us to get private lessons if we chose oboe. Most importantly, he said, it was for bubbly but studious players who liked a challenge. Then, he played the quick video clip. I was only ten seconds into the video when I realized that this was the instrument for me. Nothing would stop me from playing it.

I sat with the diary in my lap, my mind off in the faraway land of the past. A smile crept onto my lips. So this was how it all began. I closed the diary carefully, and put it in the pile of things I was taking to college. I would need this for music conservatory. But it didn’t matter, anyway. The origin story that I had only recently recalled was now forever ingrained in my heart.








Hobbies. Some of us have many, and others have few. When I think back to my high school career as an oboist, I can’t help but think of the event that started it all. That day, my oboe was no longer a hobby. It was my life.

"Honey, you’re never going to get a career as a musician. Your oboe gets you into college, and that’s it." I winced as my mom delivered the truth, but inside, I knew that she was right. It only made sense. I had to go to college, become a doctor, and maybe, if I was lucky, I could keep music in my life.
"Now go do your homework, and you can practice after you finish." A big stack of books welcomed me as I sat down at my desk. I really should get my homework done. My grades are especially important if I want to go on the band trip. My mind wandered as I thought about the excursion. We left for the festival in two days! All my idols were going to be there, from Anna Flores to Brett Whitney. I could hardly wait to see them all in person.


Before I knew it, we were seated in the hall. Our director’s baton started to move, guiding us and showing us the meaning behind the music. There was nothing quite like this feeling I got when I played. With my instrument, I could go anywhere. I could soar over lush valleys, over sparkling seas. Through music, I could tell any story I wanted. All too quickly, the first movement ended, and our last note rang out through the hall. There was a rustling of music as people turned their pages, and then the director nodded at me. I took a deep breath and began my solo. As I played the bittersweet melody, I spoke of longing, loss, and even hope. My notes, sweet and clear, seemed to float above the soft trombone choir, in an ethereal moment. I was in a daze when I finished, and I played through the rest of the symphony on a high. Pride filled me when I stood up with the rest of the soloists, smiling broadly. After the final note of applause, we were led into the clinic room, where a judge came to critique us and help us fix issues with our performance.
When I entered the room, I could not believe my own eyes! Our clinician was none other than Anna Flores, the principal oboist for the LA Philharmonic!
"First of all, I’d like to congratulate everyone on a job well done. That was an excellent interpretation of the Giannini symphony! Though there were some technical issues throughout the piece, I really sensed the heart you all poured into it. You have bright musical futures!"
She flipped through the score, and picked out parts for us to work on. After our thirty minutes were up, she pulled me aside.
"I’ve never heard such young musical talent. Your solo was phenomenal! I know that I’ll be seeing more from you in the future." She pulled a method book out of her bag, and quickly scribbled down a note inside. It was her number. "If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. Us oboists have to stick together!" At a loss for words, I spat out an awkward thank you and a smile, and shook her paw. I couldn’t believe it! Someone thought that I had the potential to be a professional musician. From then on, I wouldn’t hold back. I would devote my entire life to music.


2 0XXY E A R SXXL A T E R . . .

I was hit by a wave of nostalgia, but this time, I was seated at the adjudicator's chair. This was the very same concert hall where I decided to follow my dreams. I didn’t regret a single thing. I now was the principal oboist of the San Francisco Symphony, and I got to play, teach, and even write wonderful music every day.
A lush soundscape filled my ears as the first band took the stage. An American Elegy. Frank Ticheli. I let myself get lost in the music, feeling the raw emotion that radiated from the band. Though my brain went through all the motions of adjudication, my heart was fully connected to the music. When I heard the young oboist play their solo, tears pricked my eyes. They reminded me of my young self. Passionate, but conflicted. Eventually, the piece ended, and I followed the band into the clinic room.
"Now, who knows about the reason this piece was written?"
A horn player answered, and we discussed the meaning of the song, taking the time to fix certain passages along the way. All too soon, our time in the clinic room was up, so I dismissed the band. They were young, filled with emotion and potential, truly a joy to work with.
"Wait!" I called after the oboe soloist. He turned around. "I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your solo! You truly have a bright musical future." I reached inside my purse, for I had come prepared. Grabbing the method book, I wrote my number on the inside cover, just as Anna did all these years ago. I extended the book to him, and he took it. "Call me if you need anything. Anything at all."
"Thank you. I promise I won’t let you down." The kalon took the book, shook my hand, and walked away, whistling his solo as he went.
I smiled to myself. I knew I’d see him again someday. Music is a funny thing. Where words fail, it speaks. And I knew that this kalon had something to say.





P E R S O N A L I T Y
+ Studious
+ Patient
+ Tolerant
+ Thoughtful
+ Professional
- No social life
- Insecure
- Talkative
- Clingy


H I S T O R Y
Diana grew up with a single mom who was very focused on college. Nearly everything that Diana had to do was to up her chances to get into a good college. This was because her mom goofed off in high school and wasn’t happy with her choices later in life. Diana wasn’t the type to rebel, though, and she stuck to everything her mom said. She studied hard, did her homework, and balanced multiple extracurriculars, though it resulted in a lot of unhealthy stress. Thankfully, she truly did love playing oboe (one of the activities that was for college), and so she was able to pour her emotions into the music. Eventually, she defied her mom by going to music conservatory, but in the end, her mom supported her.
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olive • they/them • ve/ver
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linguistics • foreign languages • ttrpgs
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Re: london readoption

Postby c o r r i o n a. » Fri Aug 24, 2018 3:41 am

Boop
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Re: london readoption

Postby Namida_☾ » Thu Aug 30, 2018 12:20 am

I think this has already ended so good luck everyone!?
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──────────
tomorrow

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timezone: cest
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──────────
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is nearly yesterday

Image
and everyday
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Art is my own! Do not use!

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is stupid

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